


Power and Control

by loved_ice



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, BAMF Eggsy, Collars, Doms are lovable morons in this, Eggsy is a smart cookie, Gentle Dom Harry, Gentle Dom Merlin, He knows subs have all the power, It's all very gentle and loving I warn you, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Praise Kink, Sub Eggsy, Voice Kink, honeypot mission
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:32:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3979846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loved_ice/pseuds/loved_ice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to Michelle, Eggsy is a damn good sub. </p>
<p>Most of her advice boils down to: "Doms are easy, baby. As long as they think they're in control, they'll be eatin' out the palm of your hand." </p>
<p>(Or: Kingsman hasn't had a sub before and no one knows what to do when Eggsy's forced into a Drop. Eggsy hadn't planned on letting them find out his orientation, but he can work with it. Even drugged and in deep, Eggsy's one of their best, after all.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eggsy failed as a Secret Keeper, but he's got it under control

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely self-indulgent. Nothing too plot-heavy here, just something I felt like writing. Not a lot of editing will happen with this, as a warning, because this is a pleasure-writing thing and I save my editing for my other work that needs it a lot more. I've also never written anything like this before, so we'll see how it goes haha.
> 
> Hope you enjoy despite all that stuff! This is D/S universe, but it'll be really gentle stuff for the most part and I can't say if there will be any sex or not tbh. Mostly depends on how I feel when I have time to work on this. Next chapter will be Kingsman HQ freaking out because no one has any idea how to handle a sub since they all don't get out much, which I am looking forward to writing haha.

Eggsy had a ridiculous Harry Potter phase when he was a kid. His mum had helpfully stitched together a striped scarf for him to wear borderline religiously for a handful of years, Gryffindor red and gold clashing with everything he wore during the winter. 

(He knows now that he’s always been a Hufflepuff at heart, of course. His results from Rowling’s Pottermore only confirmed the realization he had after rereading the series in a week.)

Even now, fully-grown and an agent for one of the most secretive secret agencies, he can recite countless lines and discuss the most meaningful aspects of the series’ themes with ease. It’s a comfortable conversation topic since he has yet to meet someone who hasn’t at minimum seen some of the movies. 

That being said, he knows what parts of Potter’s adventures personally resonate with him. The experiences with the Dursleys particularly hit home after his mum’s remarriage--Part of him had hoped for a long, long time that Dean shoving him around meant he had some good luck coming his way in the form of a special owl-delivered letter a year or two or five late. 

Specifically however, he knew that had he been friends with Lily and James Potter he would have been the first choice for their Secret Keeper. 

Eggsy has a variety of skills, but above all else, he can keep secrets. Back when they still called Jamal Janelle, Eggsy had been the first to hear about how he wanted to be identified. Eggsy’s discretion is the reason why he was able to explain his decision to his family without it already being a rumor around the neighborhood. When Michelle found out she was pregnant with the baby, Eggsy sneaked around for prenatal vitamins and perused online forums for safe pregnancies until she figured out how to tell Dean. He still hasn’t told anyone about the time he saw his old history teacher at a club, dressed like a woman and flirting with the bartender without his wife’s collar adorning his long neck. 

It goes without saying that Eggsy has kept his own secrets as well as others’. 

Through his generosity, Kingsman has received a lot of what makes Eggsy, Eggsy. He’s given them his gymnastics and fighting skills, given them his body more times than he cares to count, given them his obedience and a good chunk of his loyalty, given them all he can give except the handful of secrets he guards for himself. 

Some of them aren’t even that bad. His disgust for any alcohol that isn’t beer is one. That’s a secret he can’t let slip because “wine-and-dine” nights with Roxy are the highlight of his month and if choking down expensive wine and pretending the migraine he gets from it is nonexistent lets him and Roxy have their fun, that’s what he’ll do. His tiny, slightly inappropriate crushes on his bosses—Embarrassing, of course, but nothing that would ruin his life if someone found out. He also might have hit the baby’s head against the wall when he was carrying her to bed once, but he will absolutely not say a word about that until she’s old enough for him to ascertain if he screwed her up or not. 

Some are pretty bad, but again: Ultimately, not life-ruining. Stealing Harry’s house keys and making a copy for himself—Bad, completely illegal, but worth it when he found the file that had Merlin’s real name in it at Harry’s desk. Nicking half of Harry’s cologne was superfluous after that victory but extremely worth it to be able to douse his pillow in it. 

(He hasn’t slept so well in years.)

Even more selfishly, he lied to Merlin and created three missions out of a fake threat. After all, lying to Merlin about what happened to his second pair of glasses was easier than saying he saw his ex approaching and panicked. He let a petty drug dealer take the fall, saying the bloke caught him and recognized him from a bust a month back. That got him taken out despite not technically being a threat. (Not like the man didn’t deserve it, but it wasn’t really Kingsman business.) 

Most, if not all, of these Eggsy will take to his grave. Unless someone directly confronts him about them, he won’t say a word. 

His largest, worst secret falls under the “This cannot be unearthed or else my life will be over and I’ll need to move to a remote village in New Zealand if I ever want to regain a speck of my dignity” category. And, obviously, it is one that can be directly confronted much more easily than any of the rest of his secrets. (It’s not like anyone’s going to ask him about that time he babysat the baby when she was just shy of a year old, after all. No one’s going to smell his pillow and say, “This smells oddly like Harry Hart. And is that a whiff of Aaron “Merlin” Chambers I detect?”) 

In his defense, he figured he could keep it secret longer than he did. He knew that street drugs were getting more dangerous, especially after V-Day and mind control became a conceivable possibility in more ways than just SIM cards and signals, but that doesn’t mean he really comprehended it. Without Ryan dealing anymore and with Dean mostly out of his life, Eggsy hadn’t kept up with the ebb and flow of drug popularity. He assumed weed had been due for a comeback, what with America considering legalization and bringing it up in the media more and more often. 

A drug that forces a Drop though? That’s like a bad fiction cliché, usually only in campy sci-fi and fantasy media. He heard rumors but like a moron Eggsy laughed and thought, “Saw that Star Trek episode when I was ten.” Stupidly, he assumed that Merlin would have added that information into the file for his mission. 

Apparently, Kingsman didn’t think mentioning the drug was necessary since doms don’t Drop. 

Obviously, all agents are doms. So this shouldn’t have been a problem. The drug being airborne and easy to distribute in enclosed spaces, its popularity at its peak, the owners of the dom-club having a clear partnership with the newest distributor and a clientele that likes their subs easy to maneuver and woo—shouldn’t have affected a Kingsman agent, is the gist of the matter. 

Merlin’s voice in his ear, getting less and less clear as Eggsy walks farther into the club, is a sign that it is most definitely a problem now. He hasn’t been Under for ages and never really around anyone else, but he knows how it feels. The lack of panic is a good indicator of how far gone Eggsy already is. 

He takes a seat at the bar, as expected of an agent. He mechanically scans over the area, letting the glasses take in everything—from the gaudy gold curtains marking off the private areas, the matching gold “toys” on stage for the night’s performance later, and the purple couches and seating to the group of subs already fallen Under, tied up to the right-hand wall waiting for the VIPs of the night to arrive. One of them catches Eggsy’s eye and gives him a dopey smile, raising a shackled hand to wave kindly. It makes him breathe a little easier to see that they have consented to this, at least. With a group that large, even deep and drugged, they would have fed off of each other’s panic being that close in proximity to each other. 

His knees itch and his breathing is slowing even as he holds up a hand to wave the bartender over. Placing an order with a charming smile, he murmurs, “Sorry Merlin, can you repeat that?” 

An aggravated sigh is his answer, and /that/ grates along his back like a cat being pet backwards when he’s deep and getting deeper. He tries not to cringe too obviously. 

“Do try to keep up, Kay. I said that the mark will most likely be picking a sub from the wall. He’s looking for one to collar and as far as our intel goes, he hasn’t picked someone yet the past three nights he’s been here.” His microphone is covered for a moment, muffling his next words to someone who’s not Eggsy. After Eggsy receives his drink and pretends to take a sip, Merlin continues, “Harry suggests you go in and look like you’re willing to buy for the company you’re ‘representing’, strike up a conversation with him about his preferences and then suggest your ‘father’s’ services with the business card we gave you to use. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a number for us to follow up on later.” 

“That’s it?” Eggsy frowns. 

“Well obviously if you get more information, that would be splendid. But don’t be too obvious. The primary objective is to get him to take your card so we can track him. Otherwise, keep it simple tonight. This is our only shot—He’s leaving the country after tonight.” 

“So he won’t be looking for subs after tonight,” He mutters, swirling his drink around. He scratches at his knees absentmindedly, humming. “And if I don’t get the tracker on him, we got nothin’. But he don’t take pushy well, yeah?” 

“Got it in one, Kay.” They don’t say anything to each other for long minutes. Eggsy doesn’t feel inclined to move, content to listen to Merlin’s breathing and nurse his drink. As more and more people start to pile into the room as the “hot hour” approaches, Merlin suddenly says, “We’re not expecting miracles here, but. Well. Do your best, Eggsy.” 

And oh. 

Oh. 

That’s a direct, dangerous order. 

All at once, Eggsy realizes how deep he is. Because suddenly doing his best seems like the only thing he can do. His face feels hot with anticipation as his mind races. He knows he can think of a better plan than the one Merlin gave him, a better way to get information from the mark and then that will be Eggsy’s best. Because Eggsy is a damn good sub—He knows he is, he’s sweet and can make a great first impression when necessary and if the mark is looking for a pre-trained sub to collar that means he’s looking for competence and obedience. 

Eggsy can work with that. Because he is a damn good sub, even if he’s never had a chance to prove it before. 

“Kay, your heart rate just spiked. What’s wrong?” 

He glances at the mirror behind the bar’s bottles, mostly accidentally but somewhat purposefully. He’s too far gone to understand how wrecked he looks, how wide his pupils must be, but he knows Merlin will put it together in time if he gives him that hint. Probably not right away, doms are dumb like that—can’t tell when a sub is gagging for it and can’t tell when a sub wants them to take a hike because they’re ultimately hopeless morons—but he’ll get it eventually. Eggsy wants him to. 

“Eggsy, you have to talk to me. What’s happening?” 

With a gentle grin, Eggsy reaches up and flicks off the incoming and visual transmissions for his glasses before he can give directions. Merlin will still be able to hear, but that’ll be it. (“Keep ‘em wantin’, baby. No matter what they say, doms like to be teased a bit.”) He doesn’t need to be distracted, after all. 

Having an order to follow grounds Eggsy and lets his movements come naturally. He hasn’t had to pull a man for ages, but he remembers how easy they are. It’ll be a piece of cake. 

He wanders over to a couch near the wall of subs, patting their heads in greeting when he wanders by. They lean in freely due to some instinct that tells them he’s not a threat. It makes his chest glow with warmth—Being surrounded by the Kingsman, while fun, is still being surrounded by a large group of doms. It feels good to be close to subs again and to be able to be one of them for the first time in months. One nips at his hand slyly and he laughs, nudging her knee with his foot playfully before retreating. 

Humming, he collapses into the couch and stretches out languidly, arm dangling off the side of it. He makes his body language that of a tentative, inexperienced dom. By taking up more space than socially appropriate, he seems overly confident to the point that it makes others perceive him as insecure. Experienced, well-trained doms will be able to see through his posture and note that he’s faking—If the signs of an impending Drop aren’t obvious enough, that is. Good doms would be able to see he’s Under from across the room, but he isn’t expecting any of those here. 

Eggsy floats for around a half hour. The mark isn’t there yet, and nothing seems good enough to hold his interest. He almost regrets turning Merlin off—It would have been distracting, but his voice is very nice to listen to. But no—to be good, he has to be focused. Floating and waiting is fine, but being completely distracted would be bad. He gives encouraging thumbs-ups to the subs that get taken away by the VIPs as they pass. Some look thrilled, others look nervous—One went to her knees the second a petite blonde woman grabbed her leash. That dom looked horribly smug as she pulled the lanky sub away. 

He barely startles when a hand clasps his shoulder. He knows who it is, after all. Slowly, he turns his eyes to the thick hand, up the hairy arm, to the harsh, square-shaped face staring at him with amusement. Eggsy smiles. 

“Can I help you?” He asks. Carefully, he ducks his head—In his faux-dom posture, virtual suicide. Doms, no matter how inexperienced, don’t show their necks. He knows that and the mark knows that—A calculated move to let him know, “Yes, aren’t I interesting? I’m an available sub in a predominantly dom-club. No collar, see?” without having to outright say it. 

The mark smiles back. His dark hair falls into his caramel elevator eyes. “Should I be asking you that? You’re not the normal crowd here, darling.” 

Eggsy leans into the mark’s touch. The man’s eyes light up and he squeezes his hand tighter. Eggsy tries to look like he bit off a pleased sound. “May I speak freely, sir?” He asks breathlessly. 

He can almost see the mark’s blood rush south at that. “You may.” The husky tone? Eggsy knows what that means. (“Doms get riled up so easy. They think they’re observant, but they only see what we let them.”) 

“To be honest, I’m here because—This is sort of embarrassing,” Eggsy laughs gently, self-deprecatingly. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Forgive me. But my father works with your company, and he has talked so much about you. I’ve fancied you for quite awhile just through his stories and following you through the media—You’re very charming, Mr. Bennett, without even trying. Your business is remarkable and I’m intrigued by the decisions you’ve made. I’m a computer science major at school, you see, and what you’ve made—It’s what I dream of working with someday. The software your company makes is fascinating, I’m writing a report about it now, actually.” 

“Is that so?” 

He slams his eyes shut and nods, flushing red. He shakily says, “When Father mentioned that you were in town and were going to be here—so close to my own house!—I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be here tonight and hope to catch your attention.” He laughs again, shaking his head. The mark’s fingers tighten painfully. “It all sounds rather ridiculous now that I’ve said it out loud, you see. But I couldn’t help it.” 

There’s a long, tense moment of silence. Eggsy, blatantly desperate, adds, “You’re even more impressive in person, sir. Really, I’ve imagined this for months but seeing you here is—Wow.” He ends, breathlessly and quietly, with, “Just wow, sir.” 

Bennett’s hand migrates from his shoulder to his hair, and Eggsy gasps when it tugs on it. “You’re Tyler’s boy, aren’t you? From the construction company, yes?” He urges Eggsy off the couch easily, lets him fall to his knees. 

“Yes sir.” 

“So well-trained,” Bennett murmurs. “Did Tyler train you himself?” 

“No sir.” Eggsy whines when Bennett’s hand trails across his jaw. “Sir, please—“ 

“Would you like me to take you home, darling?” 

(“Doms are easy, baby. If you get them to think that you think they hung the moon, you’re in. They’ll take you home if you look vulnerable and desperate for them and only them. Won’t even need your name as long as you make them think they’re singular. They’re hooked.” 

“Why?”

“They love feeling wanted more than anything. It makes them feel powerful.” 

“But we got all the power, don’t we?” 

“Well that’s the best part, innit?”)


	2. Roxy's responsible for a bit there, but even she's not safe from situational dom idiocy

Because Roxy isn’t an idiot, she doesn’t freak out when Eggsy turns his glasses off. As Merlin curses uselessly into the microphone and Harry starts yelling, she grabs Merlin’s mug before it can spill over all of his hardware. (“Practicality, thy name is Morton,” as her mother would say fondly to her father.) 

“Is there anything we can do right now?” She asks loudly, over their obnoxious and useless arguing. They turn to her. “Look, can you turn his glasses back on from here?” 

Merlin scowls, snatching his mug back from her. “No. When I first designed them, everyone voted that they should be able to turn them off without me interfering so they can have some control over what the handlers see and don’t see. As if privacy matters in situations like these.” 

“Then stop freaking out. Both of you,” She adds pointedly when Harry goes to open his mouth. “Eggsy knows how to keep himself alive even if he fucks up the mission. So what we should focus on is why he looked like he was ill before he shut down and see if we need to call an ambulance.” 

Predictably, Harry’s jaw visibly clenches and Merlin turns back to his tech. “What do you mean by ‘ill’, Lancelot? He seemed fine to me.” It seems to physically pain Harry to say so—Heaven forbid anyone but himself notice anything about his protégé, after all. 

“He was flushed—See, there,” She points when Merlin pulls the last frame of his transmission onto the large screen. “He’s red. I’ve never seen him blush before, so that’s already unusual. His pupils are completely dilated and the room’s too brightly lit for that to be excused. He also just looks…weird.” 

“’Weird’?” Harry repeats skeptically. “What does that mean?” 

Roxy shrugs helplessly. “He’s holding himself oddly. I can’t explain it. He’s… Stretching?” She shakes her head. “I don’t know. It’s not the same, though.” 

Merlin drums a finger against his desk, sipping at his mug. Harry stares at the screen, squinting. 

Eggsy, sweetheart that he is, seems to be a magnet for stupidity. Whether it’s his or theirs, a simple situation can suddenly become the equivalent of three six-year-olds trying to do calculus. Here, they should be able to see what’s wrong with Eggsy—Merlin has his vitals pulled up and they’re within normal range up until his last spike of adrenaline, which isn’t anything out of the ordinary—Yet they’re sitting around staring and trying to decipher why Eggsy would shut his feed off without a warning. Since there wasn’t anything abnormal with his surroundings, logic dictates something must be wrong with him. 

“It’s his neck,” Harry speaks up suddenly. “I believe that’s what you meant by ‘weird’, Lancelot. He loosened his tie and he’s holding his neck loosely. His head is lolling to the side, isn’t it? Just a little. He normally wears shirts that cover the bottom of it, like those damn polos he likes so much. That’s why it’s weird.” 

Before Roxy can confirm that (or comment on Harry’s obsession with the newest Kay: honestly, who would notice that? She gets a pass as she’s been trained to utilize her larger than average short term memory, but what excuse does he have?) there’s a thud as Merlin’s mug hits the table suddenly. “His neck?” He adjusts his glasses and peers closer. “That—Well, give me a moment.” He stands up and grabs his tablet; wandering over to another tech (She thinks the tech’s called Falcon, if she remembers correctly. Which she always does) his voice turns into unintelligible murmurs. 

“Maybe we should extract him ourselves,” Roxy sighs, crossing her arms and leaning against Merlin’s chair. “Chances are, the mission’s gone to shit or it’s about to go to shit. Eggsy has no one watching his back, so even if he’s fine and we’re overreacting he’s still in danger. And if we’re not overreacting we’re wasting time dawdling around wondering what’s wrong.”  
Harry hums noncommittally. She can tell he’s tempted, protocol be damned, but he won’t do it since he wasn’t the one to think of it. Not unless they have proof Eggsy’s in deep. Mentally, she pats herself on the back for being the most responsible dom in the room. 

Because of Eggsy’s unusual circumstances in gaining his Kingsman title, Harry’s still his sponsor until he’s completed three years of service and Eggsy answers directly to him and Merlin, as opposed to the new Arthur like the rest of them. This means: Eggsy officially doesn’t have the same clearance as the rest of them (a technicality at best, seeing as none of them can keep a secret from him and no one expects them to), Merlin has to “train” Eggsy and test his skills every month (“If you survive the month and don’t piss me off, you pass,” She heard Merlin tell him off-record. “As if I have time to train you all over again. As if I didn’t do a good enough job the first time around! It’s insulting, that’s what it is.”), and Harry has “complete responsibility.” Harry, in her opinion, takes “complete responsibility” very seriously. 

Unsurprisingly, “complete responsibility” means “protect Eggsy even if he doesn’t need it because he’s a big boy who can take care of himself”, and she’s learned to read when he wants to pull the plug on Eggsy’s missions. He’d probably prefer to only let Eggsy take missions that he can accompany him on, but with the amount of solo missions Arthur has been authorizing since V-Day (“We just don’t have the manpower to do any large operations right now, Galahad. So please stop asking me to pair him with someone. He’s a talented young man and his in-between status is just procedure that we can’t skip but I would if I could. He’s fine by himself”) he can’t withhold solos without Eggsy complaining. 

“Are you really this thick?” Falcon’s snort of disgust reaches them, and both turn to look at her. She’s glaring at Merlin, whose lips are pressed together tightly. “Whatever, fine. You asked my opinion, here it is: It’s the start of a fucking Drop. That’s all this could be, and if you had ever had a sub Drop around you, you’d know that.” 

“And I told you, he’s not a sub!” Merlin shouts back. “Someone would have known if he was! You can’t keep something like that a secret—!” 

“If you can’t even recognize the signs of an impending Drop, then he certainly wouldn’t have had to work very hard to do so.” 

“Of course I recognize the signs of a Drop, but being under the assumption that this is a dom—“ 

“If that boy’s a dom, I’m fucking the queen. A dom would never show their neck like that and you know it. It’s basic psychology.” 

[“Can I help you?”] 

They all freeze at Eggsy’s voice. Falcon, wisely, storms out the door at Merlin’s heated glare. 

“I guess he didn’t turn the sound off,” Roxy comments lightly. She picks up Merlin’s microphone and asks, “Eggsy, can you hear us?” A rustling noise is her only answer, but no recognition. “We'll take that as a no, then. What the hell is he doing…?” 

[“Should I be asking you that? You’re not the normal crowd here, darling.”]

“He could be pretending,” Harry mutters, anxiously fiddling with his cuffs. “For the mission. He’s been getting antsy being an ‘in-between’ agent, so maybe he’s taken it upon himself—“ 

A sharp noise reverberates, and Harry stops dead, fingers clenching around his own wrist. Merlin presses the heel of his palm into his left eye with a low muttered, “Fuck.” 

[“May I speak freely, sir?”]

They all shudder, almost as one. That’s—

Roxy knows herself: She knows that she doesn’t like men. At all. She is a lesbian dom, has been for as long as she can remember, and no male will ever be in her bed outside of missions. They aren’t for her. 

That tone, though? Even knowing that Eggsy is her best friend, as male as they come—She would readily put him on his knees if he kept talking like that. Not sexually, mind you, but she would do it to keep hearing that tone. It’s not attraction but she feels hardwired to respond to desperation like that and she can’t even imagine how far Under he is to sound that wrecked—

[“You may.”] 

“Shit,” Harry scrubs a hand over his face, eyes wide. “Merlin, what the fuck do we do now?” 

Merlin’s staring at the screen stuck on Eggsy’s last visual transmission. He lets out a long breath. “We have to send someone to get him. He’s Under—“ 

“Obviously,” Roxy interjects. She ignores the sharp look she receives. 

[“To be honest, I’m here because—This is sort of embarrassing.”]

“And not consensually, which is the problem,” He snaps coldly. “The club—Well, Arthur and I didn’t think it was necessary to say anything since none of the agents are subs—Or should I say subs ‘on record’—Anyway, the club pumps Sudorop into the air. Subs aren’t allowed in normally, only if they’re through a seller. Eggsy wouldn’t have known about it.” 

Roxy senses Harry’s snarl before it actually is verbalized. “What the fuck, Merlin? You didn’t think that’d be important information?” 

[“Forgive me. But my father—“] 

“Wait, shut up—“ Roxy motions for them to shut up, turning up the volume. 

[“works with your company, and he has talked so much about you. I’ve fancied you for quite awhile just through his stories and following you through the media—You’re very charming, Mr. Bennett, without even trying. Your business is remarkable and I’m intrigued by the decisions you’ve made. I’m a computer science major at school, you see, and what you’ve made—It’s what I dream of working with someday. The software your company makes is fascinating, I’m writing a report about it now, actually.”]

“That little shit. He’s working the mark.” She whistles lowly. “Maybe he is faking. I’ve never known a sub that can focus while they’re that deep.” 

[“Is that so?”] 

[“When Father mentioned that you were in town and were going to be here—so close to my own house!—I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be here tonight and hope to catch your attention.”] 

“He’s not. Now that I know I’m looking at a sub his vitals are typical of a Sudorop high,” Merlin sounds furious. He picks up his mug, jerks it as if he’s going to take a sip, then places it back down with a loud thud. “What the fuck does he think he’s doing? This is the most reckless—“ 

[“It all sounds rather ridiculous now that I’ve said it out loud, you see. But I couldn’t help it.”] 

Harry groans suddenly and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You told him to do his best, Merlin. You probably said it right when the drug hit. It was the only direct order you gave so that combined with the timing means he must have fixated.” 

[“You’re even more impressive in person, sir. Really, I’ve imagined this for months but seeing you here is—Wow. Just wow, sir.”] 

It’s Merlin’s turn to snarl, though Roxy sees it wasn't directed at Harry that time. “Must he call that filth ‘sir’? For fuck’s sake, he may as well be begging for it!” 

Eggsy gasps over the speaker suddenly, and Roxy sees red for a split second—Merlin’s mug is smashed on the ground when it passes, Harry’s cradling his fist that appears to have slammed down on an intern’s keyboard, and Merlin himself is frozen and pale. 

They all flinch violently, at Eggsy’s, [“Yes sir.”] 

[“So well-trained.”]

“I’ll kill him—Eggsy’s drugged and that bastard knows it!” Roxy growls. “Harry, get Arthur to authorize an extraction NOW or I swear I’ll go fucking postal—“ 

[“No sir.”] The whine after it has them all tensing further. [“Sir, please—“]

Harry’s lips are almost white; they’re pressed so tightly together. Merlin’s arms are crossed with his fingers on each hand digging into the opposite arm as if to restrain himself. 

[“Would you like me to take you home, darling?”] 

“ARTHUR—“ Like a gunshot, Harry sprints out of Merlin’s den all at once. Roxy is uselessly shouting into the microphone, stomping her feet like an infuriated two-year-old. Merlin still hasn’t moved an inch. 

[“Oh please sir, please—“]

(Later, Roxy will admit they all lost their shit for no good reason. Eggsy clearly hadn’t forgotten the mission and had the situation under control, even if he was Under. They had even recognized he was playing the mark like a fiddle—Roxy knows her concern comes from Eggsy being under the influence without his consent, but she suspects Harry and Merlin’s concern was more selfish. 

“We’re very selfish creatures, Roxanne. Short of pissing on our subs, we’ll do whatever we can to claim them. And God help those who try to stake a claim over our own.”) 

By the time Harry returns with Arthur at his heels, all of the agents in the area have crowded around Merlin’s monitor. Having heard Harry freaking out in the hallways, they all migrated to where he’d return. In that time, Eggsy has called the mark “sir” fifteen more times, the mark has teased about his extensive whip collection twice, Eggsy has moaned five times and bitten off a curse thrice, and the car has arrived at the mark’s hotel. 

Roxy has broken three tablets and her own glasses. Merlin has yet to have moved, though his knuckles have tightened to an alarmingly pale shade of white. She reckons, vaguely underneath the haze of her rage, that it’s a good thing Harry missed the car ride, because even the other agents are furious and about to start a riot. They only barely know Eggsy, yet Bors has already called three of his contacts to ruin Bennett’s public business and Gawain had to be restrained by Tristan. Galath is obsessively cleaning up the messes Roxy has made—He recently took over care of his younger brother and is fully in his Nesting phase, which may be the only reason he’s not breaking things as well. 

“Can anyone give me a coherent explanation of what’s going on?” Arthur raises an eyebrow at the circle of agents. “Although, may I just say: kudos on the solidarity I’m seeing. I haven’t seen all of you in a rage together for years.” 

Harry’s eye twitches at Eggsy’s next moan. “I told you—“ 

“Galahad, you are so utterly compromised I can’t even begin to say how unreliable your narration of this mess is. Tristan, you seem relatively sane. Can you explain?” 

[“Darling, the things I’m going to do to you… We’ll start with this.”] 

Tristan cracks his knuckles and shrugs. “As far as I can tell, Kay has apparently hid the fact that he’s a sub and it’s come back to bite him in the arse. He’s with the mark, Under without his informed consent, and may or may not be using his sub-ly wiles to trick the man. He’s not communicating with us though, so whether he actually has a plan or is just getting laid remains to be seen.” 

“’Getting laid’? Eggsy is DRUGGED, cannot consent, and that bloody sicko knows that! Don’t call this ‘getting laid’!” Roxy shouts furiously. 

“He’s our sub and he’s out there alone, we can’t let that be,” Bors cuts in, fierce and steadfast. “He’s Kingsman’s and we need to do something about it, Arthur. He’s ours—” 

[“Where do you want me, sir?”] 

[“On your stomach, darling. Like that—No no, like that. That’s fine. Stay like that. Count for me—“] 

The sound of leather hitting flesh startles all of them. 

Roxy shoves her foot through a computer monitor. Merlin, somehow, has gotten paler and his breathing’s incredibly unsteady. Harry lunges for the microphone, or speaker, or something—Roxy can’t tell through her rage what he’s trying to accomplish, but Tristan kindly stops him and holds him in place. Bors’s phone cracks when it hits the ground. Gawain kicks and stomps his legs from the chair he’s been tied to. Even Arthur’s nostrils flare. 

No one says anything as Eggsy’s voice stutters over numbers. His high-pitched whines grate against all of their ears, and the mark’s pleased noises only add to the combined, dark aura of the room. Arthur walks purposefully up to the speaker with a stony face, hands tucked behind his back. 

[“God, look at you—Fucking begging for it—Begging for me—Gorgeous, baby, absolutely gorgeous, I could watch you for days—‘smatter, baby, y’okay? Wait, what—“]

There’s a tiny gurgle before it all goes silent. 

[“Fuckin’ loser. Usin’ a whip on the first date—What a dickhead. Who even does that?” A snicker rolls through the speaker. “’Beggin’ for me—Gorgeous baby—‘ did you get that from one of your pornos? Like I would beg for you when I got them at home. Wouldn’ even make my top fifty, bruv.] 

He hums nothing in particular. None of the knights look at each other. Roxy’s ears are ringing. Merlin has relaxed, his arms dropping to his sides. Tristan releases Harry, whose mouth opens and closes. For once, he doesn’t make an effort to straighten his clothes despite this being the first time they’re noticeably ruffled. 

[“Now where you got your laptop? Ooh, that looks important. We’ll take that too. And that. Pretty gifts for my Kingsmen. Merlin will like that. They’ll like me too, I did good. Maybe they’ll let me kneel. Harry’d be so warm, I bet. Nothin’ like this fucker. I miss them—Focus, Eggsy, mission. Get stuff. Important stuff. I don’t—Maybe? Good, that’s good. CARD. Put the card with the prick, that’s important I know it is and they’ll be so proud that I remembered that—Ow, ow. Don’t like that, why’d he have a fuckin’ whip like some bad romance novel shit. My knees itch—FOCUS. Eggsy, c’mon bruv, you got this, that’s somethin’ good innit? Crap, whoops—“] 

There’s a loud crack—A noise all of them have heard before, the sound of the glasses snapping. One last, [“Shit, fuck he’ll be mad I’m sorry I’m sorry—“] and the line goes dead. 

Arthur bursts into laughter. Helpless, belly-shaking laughter. “Bloody hell, that’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard in my fucking life,” He gasps. “Kay’s a gem, that’s for sure. Under, completely infatuated, bitching about a shitty dom, and he still remembers the mission. Good pick, Galahad. Very, very good pick.” 

“Shall I call for an extraction?” Merlin asks hoarsely. “We have a location and I can have a cab ready in—“ 

“No no no, that’s not needed, Merlin,” Arthur grins fiercely. “No, let him finish this out. We’ll see if a sub can survive in Kingsman. If he can make it back in one-piece and without getting the cops called, we can make him a full-time agent. This is impressive, but we won’t always be able to save his ass if he gets this deep.” He laughs again, shaking his head. “How exciting. Keep an eye on him, but don’t interfere. Report to me tomorrow and have him report to me whenever he Surfaces.” 

Arthur leaves with a casual wave. The door shuts behind him, sounding loud in the quiet room. 

Harry straightens abruptly and walks to Merlin’s side, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. “He’ll be able to handle it. We don’t have to worry. Pull up his tracker. Roxy, get everyone else out of here. Eggsy will already be embarrassed that everyone heard all of this, they don’t have to see him return now that we know he’s fine for now.” 

Numb, with her anger emptied and the rest of her off-balance, she just says, “You heard him. Get out.” 

They leave silently. Harry says, “Put whatever we need on a tablet and we’ll relocate to my office. If my understanding of that drug is correct, his Drop will hit shortly after he arrives and it will hit hard. Roxy, are you joining us?” 

She shakes her head sharply. “Not a good idea. I’m in no state to deal with a sub right now. Besides, he knows who he wants to see.” She snorts tiredly at their confusion. “Listen, I don’t know when either of you last had a sub, but when they remember your name while they’re that far Under—That’s serious stuff, is all I’m saying. Don’t fuck it up.” 

Roxy leaves for home. If she weren’t so exhausted, she’d laugh at their twisted expressions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hate work and I spent all afternoon writing this because I had a shit day. And this made me feel better! So yay! I probably won't update this quick very often, just a fair warning. Hope you enjoy! Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos and subscribed and basically just gave me warm feelings all throughout this shitty ass day. I appreciate it! :)
> 
> Also, if you like this and would like to hear me ramble about Kingsman, my tumblr is loved-ice . tumblr . com so feel free to spy on me over there~


	3. In which Eggsy has them wrapped around his finger (Or: The calm before the storm)

Being Under makes life at least three times less stressful for Eggsy. He’s not prone to panicking, so he’s not going to spiral like a jumpier sub would and with a direct order to cushion him, he’s feeling great. Like a million bucks. Absolutely wonderful, cloud 9, could-dance-on-air happiness because he did everything right and they’re going to be proud—Of him! Proud of him specifically. 

Now to get back and get his reward. (Harry’s proud back pat or Merlin’s crooked grin or both, god, that’d be perfect—) 

Getting out of the hotel without being noticed—Easy, easier than anything he ever did in training. 

Getting out without anyone asking him if he needs help is harder, but loosening the smile a bit, making it look well fucked rather than anticipatory, and preening when people double-take at his back will help. Getting out with everything he wants to give to Merlin—Merlin will love it, he’s got everything and it’s above and beyond which is something Merlin values, the “extra mile” kind of thing—is more difficult than he thought it would be. 

Bennett liked the sound of ripping fabric, or else thought Eggsy did—His suit’s tattered and ruined, though thankfully it’s not one Harry picked out for him or else Eggsy thinks he might have actually started crying. He loves Harry’s suits but he wants to do his best more than he wants to save material things, so he would’ve let Bennett rip a Harry-suit too even if it would hurt—Thankfully, he didn’t have to and it was just one Eggsy bought himself, and it looked like Harry’s but not too much or else that’d be weird. 

Suits already don’t have limitless pockets, which is why agents have to pick-and-choose their weapons, so his tattered mess certainly can’t hold much. Eggsy’s smart, though, so he figured it out even with Bennett’s dumb restrictions before leaving the room because he’s a good sub and maybe Merlin will say so when he gets back with it all. 

Growing up with Dean has made Eggsy absolutely amazing at fucking with direct orders that would trap less experienced subs. It’s a blessing now, finding ways around Bennett’s until Harry or Merlin or Roxy or Arthur say something that’ll contradict it and take precedence. Bennett’s not his dom, but it’s hard to keep that completely clear right now. 

That would have to be the drugs because Eggsy’s never had this much trouble thinking straight while Under. He’s been down to the damn floor and still been able to outwit Dean and his crew—Oh, that one time before the baby was born was brilliant, with the pan and Jim’s dog—but this is the first time he’s ever had a gnawing fixation on an order. “Do your best” still reverberates in his head, every couple of minutes knocking at the edge of his brain and saying, “Excuse me, but don’t you fuckin’ forget bruv.” 

In this moment, Kingsman’s shop front has never looked so beautiful. It’s like home and safety and warmth—Literal warmth, walking inside is like walking straight into an electric blanket. One of the best Christmas gifts he ever got was an electric blanket the year they couldn’t fix the heat. He and his mum would curl underneath it together during his pubescence when his Drops were unstable. Puberty, man. No one ever misses it, but he loves those memories where she’d brush his hair for him like subs did for each other in cheesy after school specials. 

(Maybe Harry would brush his hair. He likes hygiene. Merlin doesn’t have hair so he shouldn’t ask him, he’s pretty sure that’d be rude.) 

The ground of the shuttle isn’t as comfortable as the seats are. In its defense, the shuttle seats had been sent straight from God and Jesus’s home at some point. (They’re /that/ comfortable. His knees still itch or else he’d love to sink into them for the ride.) 

The crowd back home liked their subs crawling but Kingsman might be too classy for that kind of display. Then again, Eggsy isn’t that classy. Plus, he knows even the most proper dom would drool over a good crawl. But no, maybe not. He can imagine Harry saying, “Gentlemen don’t crawl, Eggsy.” 

(Unless he’s into that kind of thing. Then it would be, “Gentlemen don’t crawl in public, Eggsy.” Wait, maybe not “Eggsy” in that context. Redo. “Gentlemen don’t crawl in public, dear boy.” That—Perfect, that sounds the way Eggsy wants him to sound.) 

He passes people. They’re oddly loud and one tries to touch him. 

(That won’t do, it’s not one of his.) 

They get louder after that. He can’t think as easily as before when he’d been alone, but he remembers where he has to go. Impatiently, he shoulders past the loudest and bats the obstacles out of his way. It takes too long, but finally he reaches the door and slides past it without anyone following him. He kicks it shut as he wanders in to take in the room completely. Eggsy perks up immediately when he sees the dom behind the desk—Harry Harry Harry Hart, there he is—

“Eggsy, it’s good to see you made it back safely. Come in, please. Take a seat—Oh, ah. That’s fine, then. If that’s what you want. Merlin will be over with supplies to patch you up soon.“ 

And isn’t that perfect? He’s on his knees in front of Harry’s desk, far enough away that he can meet Harry’s warm brown eyes comfortably, and Merlin’s on the way. It’s better than Christmas. His face aches from how much he’s smiling. 

“How did your mission go, Eggsy?” 

Dumb question, seeing as it’s not done yet. He tucks his hands behind his back and tilts his head, displaying his neck. It’s satisfying hearing Harry’s breath hitch at that. 

“Eggsy. Answer me.” 

That hurts a bit, not being able to follow an order—the first direct one from Harry, too, that hurts—but he can’t. He whines behind closed-lips, trying to get across how much he wants to be good but he can’t yet. If he sounds pitiful enough, maybe— 

“Oh darling, it’s okay,” And after a moment of footsteps, there’s two—two! —hands petting his hair. “It’s okay, you don’t have to—I didn’t mean to have you do anything you didn’t want to, it’s okay. I’m very sorry, darling, you’re wonderful and don’t think I think otherwise.” 

Eggsy leans into the petting with a content hum. 

It must have only been a couple of minutes when the door clicks open and Harry’s hands leave him. The only reason why he doesn’t complain at the loss is because Merlin’s stepping through and closing the door and that’s a fantastic thing to be happening. He straightens his posture as Merlin strides forward because first impressions are important. It’s only a moment before there are gentle fingers tilting his chin up, stretching his neck to be viewed. He allows it and smiles the entire time. 

“Well now, there’s a sweet boy. How are you, Eggsy?” 

Eggsy keeps smiling, lips closed and eyes meeting Merlin’s. Some subs don’t make eye contact, but Eggsy likes these ones. They’re gentle eyes. Merlin gets a tiny, pinched wrinkle on his forehead and if Eggsy weren’t kneeling he’d run a thumb over it. 

“Can you understand me, lad?” 

He nods lazily, relishing the feeling of cool fingers pressing against the underside of his chin. It’s like an anchor in the office that feels a little too large. Having both doms right near him help lessen that feeling of weightlessness but it’s pressing at the edges of his nerves relentlessly. For now, he can ignore it while he has gentle hands handling him. 

“Then I don’t see why you can’t answer me. Give me words, Eggsy. How are you?” 

Eggsy smiles again. He’ll get it soon. Harry won’t, because he’s sentimental even at his best, but Merlin will. 

“Cheeky little br—“ Eggsy leans back suddenly at the cut off curse, playful mood cut short and replaced with wariness. He side-eyes Merlin. His smile droops into a thin line. The fingers on his chin loosen but don’t let go, keeping him from retreating completely. “Why am I not surprised that you only like to tease on your terms? Relax, sweetheart. I’m not mad. I’d just like an answer so we can stop worrying. Now talk to me: Are you okay?” 

He whines without opening his mouth, like he did with Harry. Harry (adorable brown-eyed Harry) pipes up with, “Merlin, you’re pushing him too hard.” A hand starts petting through his hair again. “Give our darling time to adjust for god’s sake, he’s just—“ 

“Wait. What’s that?” Merlin pinches Eggsy’s jaw suddenly. “Is there something in your mouth? For the love of—Spit it out, lad. C’mon, give it here—“ His other hand appears in Eggsy’s vision, large and warm with callouses ringing the fingers. It taps at Eggsy’s lower lip, harshly but painlessly. “Eggsy, now. Open your mouth.” 

Slowly, Eggsy opens his mouth and lets the tiny black rectangle tumble to the tip of his tongue. 

“What the hell is that?” 

“It’s a flash drive.” Merlin plucks it out of Eggsy’s mouth and wipes it on his sweater, snorting loudly. “A bloody flash drive. Did you bring this for me, sweetheart?” He swipes a thumb against Eggsy’s lip, which carefully curves into a bashful grin. He ducks his head and Merlin laughs warmly. He scratches underneath Eggsy’s chin lightly, exclaiming, “What a good lad you are!” 

Eggsy basks, eyes fluttering shut as he presses his face into Merlin’s hand. He nuzzles it when it traces up his flushed face, and Merlin’s laugh tapers off into a gentle chuckle. “Really, Eggsy, good job. I don’t suppose you’re hiding anything else on you, are you?” 

“Back pockets,” Eggsy murmurs without hesitating. “Toe of me right shoe. Photos on me phone—front left pocket.” 

(He knew Merlin’d be proud, knew it just like he knew everything he took was important and he knew Harry would be happy to see him, but that doesn’t make the reality any less fantastic.) 

He nudges impatiently at Merlin when his hand stops moving. He lets out a strangled, displeased grunt when Merlin’s touch leaves him completely. (no no no) 

“Eggsy, darling,” Harry’s hand tugs at Eggsy’s hair to direct his attention to him. Eggsy blinks, focusing in on Harry’s lips when they start moving again. “Would you please explain what happened on your mission? As much as you can manage, please.” 

Eggsy shrugs. “Not much to say. Bennett took me home. Knocked him out but he told me not to get my fingerprints on any of his stuff ‘cuz he just cleaned so I couldn’t touch any of it but I got it all anyways. Came back here. Wasn’t hard. Can I have your hands back?” 

“In a moment. What happened when Bennett took you home? Did he harm you?” 

“Nothing important. Can I have your hands back, please?” 

(“Gentlemen are always polite”—That sounds like something Harry would say, and please is polite so that should make it okay.) 

Harry sighs, but it’s fond and Eggsy’s not worried. “I said, in a moment. Where are you hurt, Eggsy?” 

“I dunno. I don’t hurt. Back probably.” It’s difficult to keep his hands behind his back when he wants to grab them so badly. He settles for head-butting Harry’s thigh. When that doesn’t spur him into action, he huffs and leans his forehead against the thigh and waits grumpily. 

(Unfair, innit? He worked his arse off today and they won’t even keep petting him. ‘s teasing, is what it is. Givin’ him a taste and pullin’ it away to talk about boring shit.) 

“Do we need to take him to medical?” 

“He’s a little cooler than I’d like, but whether that’s from the drug or him walking barefoot and shirtless halfway across London is anyone’s guess. Either way, it should be fine once we get him home in actual clothes. His back’s mostly superficial, but cleaning it’s going to hurt like a bitch.” 

“May as well get on with it so we can get him home. You can do this, yes?” 

“Don’t insult me. Distract him, why don’t you?” 

A hand threads into Eggsy’s hair and pulls his head off of Harry’s thigh. “Straighten up, darling. Merlin is going to clean and bandage your injuries so we can put an end to this ridiculous day. It might hurt.” 

“If it hurts, can I have your hands back?” 

There’s a rustling from behind him and the snap of plastic is layered underneath Merlin’s voice dryly responding, “Your single-minded desire for contact is noted, with slight concern. Don’t you worry; you’ll have Harry’s hand as long as you’re good for me. Keep your back straight and try not to flinch.” 

Eggsy hisses when his back starts to sting. (No no no stop it—) 

Harry cups his face and rubs his thumb over Eggsy’s cheek soothingly, which helps but Eggsy would prefer that the pain stops completely—But Merlin told him to be good, so he stays still and turns his face into Harry’s hand. The overarching sensations on his back are “wet” and “hurt” followed by the occasional, “warm” and “soft” from Merlin’s hands. It’s reassuring, even as he wants to complain about it hurting. Harry’s hand covers the entire side of his face so it’s easy to bury his eyes in it and let his lips press against the side of the hand in a hint of a kiss. 

“I might have said this already, but what a sweet boy we have here,” Merlin says suddenly. He runs a hand along Eggsy’s back firmly, another grounding presence. “You’ve done very well tonight, Eggsy. You’re being very, very good for me—for us, excuse me. Just a little longer and we’ll give you a reward for all your hardwork. How’s that sound, sweetheart?” 

He hums happily, nibbling at Harry’s palm gently as an answer. Harry startles but keeps his hand in place which must mean it’s okay so Eggsy doesn’t stop—it’s comforting having something to do other than focus on his back burning. He tugs on the skin lightly, worrying it between his teeth before releasing it and returning to lighter bites. 

Having indulgent doms is the best. Eggsy has decided they can stay. His last dom had liked that Eggsy was independent but she took that to mean Eggsy didn’t need any attention when he was Under. She’d do the basics to keep him from a Drop so she wasn’t a bad dom, necessarily. She just was careless compared to how Merlin and Harry are treating him now. Merlin’s patching him up when Eggsy was dumb enough to get injured and Harry’s soothing Eggsy when it was Eggsy own fault for getting hurt—That’s caring and nice, though it’s not like Eggsy thought they’d be anything but. 

It’s refreshing being Under and not having to worry about what his partner (here, partners) wants. They’ll tell him what they want when he needs to know. He’s been on enough missions with both of them in his ears for that to be a given. 

“And there we are, sweetheart. I’m very proud of you for handling that so well. It hurt, didn’t it? We’re done now though, you can relax.” Merlin grabs the nape of his neck and squeezes it. “What a sweet boy—“ 

“You said that already,” Harry mutters, hands tightening around Eggsy’s face. 

“Did I? Well, it certainly doesn’t hurt to say it again. After all, he really is quite a sweet sub. I’ve never had one this affectionate right from the start.” 

(He likes being called sweet. He likes being called anything that isn’t mean, if he’s being completely truthful, but Merlin’s calling him “sweet” and “sweetheart” which means there’s a theme which Eggsy is all about because that means Merlin’s more attached than he thinks, yeah?) 

“You’re taking too many liberties with him. He’s vulnerable to soft words even when he’s not Under and you’re taking advantage of that—“ 

“Get off your bloody high horse, Harry. If I recall correctly, you called him ‘darling’ first. Who was the last sub you called ‘darling’? Martha, perhaps? You’re already putting expectations on him. Yet I’m the villain for wanting to keep him happy when he’s going to Drop any minute now?” 

“We should have taken him to medical. You’re being inappropriate, I’m compromised—“ 

“You and I both know that’d be borderline traumatizing for how deep he is right now. 

“I know. I do, I know. It just seems—The age difference is concerning. I worry that he has wires crossed.” 

“He wanted us, Harry. For whatever reason, he came to us. When he Surfaces, we can find out if he meant it sexually or romantically or platonically or what the fuck ever.” 

(Boring, he thinks, and he squirms until Merlin’s grip tightens again and that calms him down enough to wait again.) 

“Are we going to be okay?” 

“He came to /us/. Not just me, not just you—For tonight, we need to get along or he’s going to be absolutely awful. After that, we can talk about where to go from there. Okay?” 

“As always, you’re the rational one of us, Aaron.” 

“Yes, using that name will /really/ endear me to you right now. And you wonder why we never worked out.” 

Eggsy (distracted by Harry’s palm and Merlin’s grip and how nice and wonderful the world is) blinks when they both suddenly appear at his eye level, Harry squatting and Merlin with one knee to the floor and the other in front of him as an elbow rest. 

“How are you feeling, Eggsy?” Harry asks. His hand leaves Eggsy’s face to run through his blond hair instead. 

Eggsy ponders the question. “Lil’ cheated, honestly,” He settles on. “Ain’t payin’ a whole lot of attention to me. And was promisin’ me a reward of some sort.” 

Harry’s eyes crinkle and Merlin laughs. Eggsy grins at the warmth that inspires, tilting his head. 

“We plan on paying attention to no one except you for the rest of the night, I assure you. Now then, because I did promise you that, what would you like as a reward, sweetheart? Whatever you like, within reason. If we’re not comfortable with what you ask, we’ll tell you and you can pick something else.” 

He mulls over it for a moment, content to let Harry coax his hair into some kind of order while he thinks. “Said you was gonna take me home, yeah? Can one of you carry me there like a princess?” 

“’Like a princess’?” Harry repeats. Normally, Eggsy’d be embarrassed by the amusement there, but he doesn’t currently care. “What would that entail, darling?” 

“You know, in your arms. All cuddled up close so I can lean ‘gainst your collarbone and smell your neck. Princess style.” He pauses, then elaborates, “See, got a kiss from Princess Tilde so done that fairy tale fantasy. So now I’m onto the next one. Two of you is knights, after all.” 

Merlin answers with a tiny, crooked smile. “I think we can handle that.” 

(This, right here, is the moment where Eggsy learns that he can convince these two to do anything he wants. Because doms are so easy, and doms in love—

They’re extremely cute but so, so easy.) 

He lets them pet him for a couple more minutes, Merlin rubbing his back and cooing while Harry seems to have fixated on his hair. Shifting, he leans back into Merlin’s touch and murmurs, “Home, please?” 

As expected, they both scramble to their feet and start packing up—Merlin tidies up the medical equipment and grabs his tablet, Harry shoves papers and what looks like a paperweight into his briefcase without looking—while Eggsy watches happily. He assumes they’ll go to Harry’s house, as Eggsy’s is inhabited by sleeping relatives and Merlin’s hasn’t been visited in weeks since he likes to sleep at work. His rug in the study will be good for kneeling—Better than the office’s hardwood, at least. 

It takes too long, but finally Merlin is scooping Eggsy up into his arms. He’s too far gone to recognize what Merlin smells like, but it’s glorious and warm. Eggsy curls into the embrace with a happy sigh, relishing how it feels when Merlin walks and chuckles. 

“I’m not sure if you care right now, but Harry is making sure no one but us sees you like this. Remember that when you Surface. We’re doing our best. Now then, shall we go, sweetheart?” 

He nods into his shoulder and hums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I feel about this chapter. It seemed like it took forever, and I'm not REALLY happy with how I did Eggsy's voice in this, but I like it over all. It was fun~ I kinda based Eggsy in here on me when I'm safely drunk--Like not incoherently weird, but not really on the same level of functioning as he would be daily. He's a little out of it but still mostly aware, or at least aware of what he thinks is important. He can still trick the guys a bit but he fixates and obsesses and knows what he wants and will do what he can to get it.
> 
> Maybe it's believable? Let me know what you think. I might redo this chapter if people hate it because I'm not sure how I feel. 
> 
> Regardless, I do hope you guys enjoy it despite what I'm saying haha! Thank you to everyone who left kudos and commented and subscribed and everything, it makes my day so much better to see people like this. <3 You all are great!


	4. In which Merlin is bitter post-breakup and a little in love with Eggsy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a LOT of explanation, and I'm sorry for that. I tried to add in some cute moments to make up for the lack of plot actually happening. Hope you guys enjoy! 
> 
> ALSO I meant to do this last chapter but because I'm trash I forgot: 
> 
> A big shoutout to tumblr user thirstforfirth who let me rant to them about chapter 3! I had been freaking out and couldn't decide what POV to use and wasn't sure about the flashdrive thing, but they set me straight and were absolutely awesome about it. Go follow them on tumblr if you have one, thirstforfirth is awesome and I am so grateful for the help I got! Thank you!! The rest of this is dedicated to you for being awesome : )

Drops are one of those strange, evolutionary occurrences that no one is entirely sure why it has stuck with humans for so long. During the eighties especially, creationists used Drops as an example for why evolution couldn’t exist—After all, what purpose, evolutionarily, would an uncontrollable, devastating emotional breakdown serve? Why would a sub freaking out and distrusting their dom be a desirable trait to be passed on to future generations? Their reasoning had been that Drops were a punishment for “bad” subs that didn’t properly obey their doms and a way to demonstrate a dom’s patience with their inherently sinful partner. 

Clearly a flawed argument at its basest elements, obviously biased, but Merlin can remember his arguments with his traditionalist family. He remembers arguing that Drops are a way of facilitating communication between partners, that they clearly show the sub that they don’t like whatever is happening despite what their partner is saying, that it’s a survival technique for subs to demonstrate their distress all at once to shock the dom into stopping their behavior immediately, and that ultimately, a dom and a sub who work through a Drop together have higher levels of trust and tend to have happier relationships. Humans tend to be monogamous, which means any ways to increase oxytocin** and increase bonds between them is better for their children and, thus, future generations. 

Recordings of subs’ brain activity before, during, and after Drops show a bell curve of stress, with it peaking during the Drop and dropping off dramatically after. That coupled with theories about neurotransmitter levels that trigger pheromones during a Drop that cause a dom to react sympathetically would have added evidence to his side, but Merlin never got past the resulting shouting match to use the information. 

Regardless of the benefits from a “big picture” sort of viewpoint, Drops are nasty and the subs always suffer. They tend to fall into a handful of different categories with Drops.

Some end up catatonic, others have anxiety attacks, a small percentage shows depression-like symptoms the following day rather than reacting at all at the time it takes place. It’s not a precise formula, but finding out which category a sub falls into lets a dom have an idea of where to start when a Drop hits. Catatonic subs tend to need warmth, though through a blanket or the dom themselves is a personal preference and depends how close the two are. Drop-inspired anxiety attacks are handled the same way general ones would be. Drop-inspired Depression needs more research before anything for certain can be said, but there are fast-acting SSRIs that can help if the sub isn’t already on an antidepressant of some sort beforehand. 

With a normal relationship that would eventually lead to a collar, a dom will eventually learn the best way to handle their sub’s Drop by talking to them outside of scenes and their home environment. Trial-and-error tends to be the way to go in most traditional relationships. Contracts are usually in place with short-term relationships or those with a particularly finicky partner, with the sub’s preferences outlined clearly and an exact recipe for Drop behavior. 

Or at least, that’s how contracts had been when Merlin was younger. It’s becoming more common to see subs talk to a legal orientation representative and draw up a general contract when they come of age rather than wait for doms to stumble their way through Drops. In his opinion, it’s a good change. Much healthier and efficient than the trauma and misunderstandings that arise from an inexperienced dom and confused sub. That particular trope has been glamorized on television shows for far too long. 

Unfortunately, Eggsy must have been faking dominance for longer than he expected. When the cab started moving, Merlin searched with his glasses for any orientation representatives, official and unofficial, that he could have had access to when he came of age and found no contract. His military record is equally stark, with only a commanding officer’s unofficial comment showing any dissonance between his cover and behavior. 

(“Shows little dom intimidation and freer with his neck than socially appropriate. Have spoken to him and received defensive reaction. Recommend speaking to orientation specialist but not required.”) 

If he didn’t have this puddle of sub-contentment on his lap, Merlin would have no proof of his orientation. Harry still hasn’t said anything since they crammed into the cab together so he’s reluctant to break the peace they have and ask if he recognizes any signs in hindsight. 

It is strange how quickly both of them have fallen into their roles with Eggsy’s orientation blindsiding them like this. He keeps finding himself petting Eggsy, preening when he looks at him adoringly, nearly panting when he stretches his neck—Harry isn’t much better, which is an empty consolation. 

(Harry, surely, is grappling with his inappropriate feelings for his protégé. Probably arguing that he would react this way to any sub after nearly a decade of monogamy with his right hand and the occasional scandalous romp with Merlin. Neither of which compares to the satisfaction that comes from pleasing a gentle little thing like Eggsy, and the fact that it’s Eggsy is secondary. 

Merlin has also known Harry long enough to be completely aware of the fact that no, the fact that it’s Eggsy is why there’s any reaction at all. He hasn’t had any sensitivity problems on missions with weepy, delicate subs before.) 

“Harry, how much longer?” Eggsy asks, reaching for Harry’s hand. Harry gives it to him without a fuss, a pained grimace overtaking his face when Eggsy holds it and cuddles it close to his chest. Like a beloved teddy bear, Eggsy hugs it and rubs his face against Harry’s hand, adding hopefully, “Almost there?” 

“Not too far now,” Harry answers. He turns to Merlin with wide-eyes, distress clear in his features. Merlin can’t imagine he looks different. They don’t exactly have a plan for when they get there and Harry’s home is only a handful of blocks away. “Are you feeling alright, darling?” 

“Mm-hm.” He wriggles back into Merlin’s arms, joyfully humming when they tighten around his waist. “Great.” 

It’s akin to defusing a bomb every time they speak to him. A wrong word could send him spiraling when the drug’s so close to running its course. He imagines they don’t have long until the “good” effects of it wear off and they’re left with a Dropped sub and no clue of how to handle him. 

The problem with Eggsy hiding his orientation is they have no idea what to expect when his Drop hits. They have no information to go off of—Merlin had tried to find footage of any trysts he may have had, had tried to get any footage of him with Tilde in particular since if he was ever going to Drop, post V-Day would have been a particularly vulnerable time. He found nothing. For all he knows, Eggsy has never had any encounters in which he used his orientation. Let alone any encounter with Sudorop, which is an entirely separate issue. 

(Sudorop was originally intended for subs that struggle with falling Under. It was denied clearance to be sold when it became clear it caused erratic Drops. Since taking to the streets, the chemical makeup of it has changed to cause a Drop every time without fail in an attempt to make subs fall Under deeper and deeper, as the equivalent of an orientation high. Aside from the obvious nonconsensual implications of it, what with Under subs being particularly vulnerable and unable to consent, some doms have sworn by the forced Drops. They make similar arguments that Merlin had made, saying it increases trust and closeness between them and encourages love between them. When all parties use it consensually, Merlin can’t fault them. 

Then there’s people like Bennett who went to that club for a particular reason. Bennett, who went to the club that clearly uses Sudorop and wanted to pick up a permanent sub. Bennett, who probably was hoping the sub would be vulnerable to his advances, and picked the sub who was already “half in love” with him to encourage the progression. 

In effect, people like Bennett argue for it as an emotion manipulator. With fancy words and gentle kiddie gloves, they say they want it for making a sub more agreeable and so they can take care of them during the Drop. Essentially, it’s also date rape. Less physical, more emotional, but no less disgusting. 

Merlin believes this use is commonly used by, as the Internet would call them, “fuckboys” who complain about being “friend-zoned”. 

Harry would laugh at him for using such modern terms, but he’s the tech expert and spends a lot of time online. It’s hardly his fault he’s picked up some slang along the way.) 

And here’s the main problem: When Under with Sudorop, the worst thing anyone could do is leave a sub alone. The Drop will be intense (the effect of falling Under so intensely—the Drop acting as the crash) and leaving them alone could cause them long-term trauma. Eggsy has no contract, no instructions for whom to go to in the event of an erratic Drop, no dom he has told beforehand to take care of him—Harry and Merlin taking over is better than leaving him alone but still problematic seeing as they have no idea if Eggsy would have allowed them to be in this position if he was in the correct state of mind. 

But he went straight for Harry and Merlin and said their names before he was completely Under. He seems happy with them. They won’t do anything to intentionally hurt him. And leaving him alone could be very, very dangerous. Taking him to a hospital is an option, but that would undermine all of the work he did to pass as a dom and all they would do is strap him to a bed and let him ride it out. Essentially, it’d be leaving him alone but under supervision so he doesn’t harm himself. Merlin’s already preparing himself for the possibility that Eggsy will despise them for wanting to take care of him rather than let him suffer. 

Basically, they need to be careful. Already they’re falling into this as if Eggsy has been their sub before, and from that state of mind it would be very easy to use this as an opportunity to manipulate him. To make him feel indebted to them and urge him to see them as more than—Well, whatever Eggsy already sees them as. Mentors, bosses, coworkers, friends, whatever. 

They have about a block to go when Merlin asks, “Eggsy, how does your back feel? Are you in any pain?” 

He half-turns so he can see Merlin’s face, then shrugs. “’S fine.” 

“I can give you painkillers if it hurts,” He presses. “Please give me a yes or no. Does your back hurt?” 

He frowns, his hold on Harry’s hand tightening. “Yes. But had worse, don’t need painkillers.” 

“I don’t care if you’ve had worse,” Merlin responds carefully. He unwraps his arms from his waist and strokes Eggsy’s sides. He’s unable to stop his lips from quirking upwards when Eggsy melts into the motion. He lets one hand dip into his pocket and pull out the bottle of paracetamol. “You can have medicine even if it’s not the worst pain you’ve ever had. Got it?”  
Eggsy nods dutifully. 

“Now are you going to be a good lad and take this for me?” He holds it out and waits. 

Obediently (and isn’t that a surprise?) taking them, Eggsy dry-swallows them and makes a displeased face. Harry rewards him with a slightly forced smile and some petting, which appeases him for the time being. 

(Eggsy was never overly rebellious, but he had taken after Harry in more than a few ways after joining Kingsman. Him being a sub is surprising enough, but an obedient, sweet sub? That's downright amazing. 

Harry was the definition of “wild child” in his younger years of service and he had been assuming Eggsy would follow suit once he felt more comfortable in his position. Going by his reactions tonight though, he seems to have no problem following orders. It bodes well for Merlin’s future stress levels. 

Later, Merlin will realize that yes, Eggsy has no problem following orders, but he also has no problem interpreting them loosely. It will cause him a fair amount of grief.) 

Harry’s house comes into view. As pretentious as its owner, Merlin notes, like he always does when he sees it. The cab has barely been put into park when Harry snatches Eggsy off Merlin’s lap to carry him inside. He shoots Merlin a smug look and Merlin chomps the inside of his cheek to stop the retort that wants to escape. It’s only fair since he got to carry Eggsy to the cab, he supposes. 

He turns and leans forward to speak to the cabbie. “I’m sure I don’t have to stress the importance of discretion here.” 

He’s Kingsman-hired, of course, but anyone who works with them and hasn’t taken the loyalty test concerns Merlin. They can’t give it to every worker they have as it would lose its effectiveness if more people knew about it, but that doesn’t stop Merlin from distrusting those who haven’t proven themselves. His reputation is infamous enough that a reminder should hardly be necessary, even if the man isn’t trustworthy, but with Eggsy as the primary concern it’s best to be safe. 

“Of course not, sir. Although I doubt most would believe me. Dom-majority triads aren’t exactly common now, are they?” Glittering blue eyes meet his, and Merlin looks away first. 

He ducks out of the cab without a word, slamming the door shut behind him. Pointedly, he doesn’t look back as he wanders into Harry’s house. The observation and subsequent implication, while rude, are a fair ones to make. 

Again, he can’t describe Harry’s house as anything other than pretentious. Too many pointless knick-knacks for his taste (Even without the ones Merlin has smashed over the years during their encounters) and too few personal items. Oh, there’s Mr. Pickles (which is an entire problem in and of itself) and his bug collection, but Harry has nothing from the few family members he has left, no movies that don’t fit into his “gentleman” persona, no knick-knacks that have any sentimental value, nothing of any real value. 

Merlin doesn’t have much in the way of personal items either, but he has enough. A trinket or two from the subs he’s taken care of over the years. Some pictures of his nieces and nephews (hidden, of course. Kingsman is notoriously good at keeping their agents’ identities from enemies and allies alike, but it doesn’t pay to be too careful) and random furniture and utensils from other family members. A group picture of the office the new Arthur made them take when Harry returned from Kentucky. Various bits and pieces of shit he’s nicked from Harry over the years. 

(He might have nicked a picture of Roxy and Eggsy as well. It’s a ridiculous “selfie” they took at a café on one of their few joint missions, Roxy’s mouth half full of a croissant and Eggsy winking at the camera. They had been acting like tourists and had the pictures printed out at the end. Eggsy brought them up to him weeks ago with a sheepish grin and asked if he could get the blood off of them without hurting the images. 

They’re two of his most successful trainees, and he’s proud of both of them. They’re wonderful agents and they’re lucky to have both of them in Kingsman. If he had to work with anyone to handle V-Day, he’s glad it was them. So one picture of them going missing isn’t a crime. He deserves a memento for putting up with their shit as recruits, and that’s not even mentioning the parachute incident that shaved ten years off his life.) 

Surprisingly, Harry has taken Eggsy to his living room. If Merlin had been a betting man, he would’ve guessed he would take the sub to his study.

He’s fussing over the boy—“Do you need anything? Let me find a proper pillow for you, the carpeting in here isn’t nearly enough for your knees—If that’s what you want, of course, you don’t have to kneel if you don’t want to darling. I didn’t mean to assume.” He stops abruptly at the drawer he’s in front of. Old pillows that probably haven’t been used in years line the bottom of it, Merlin knows. He went through a string of subs during his midlife crisis, loved to spoil the things and thus has a plethora of lavish accessories for their use. His enthusiasm tended to scare them off, and he half worries Eggsy will be intimidated by Harry’s scatterbrained concerns. He settles down after a bit, but no one can accuse Harry of being a cool and collected dom. Some subs aren’t okay with that. 

Fortunately, Eggsy looks amused from his position on the ground. He’s already kneeling with perfect posture and his hands clutching each other behind his back. Placed in front of the couch, right in the middle, Merlin can understand why Harry placed him there. It’ll let them both sit with Eggsy in between them, keeping their direct interaction to a minimum. Eggsy, too, will be close enough to soothe and far enough to keep a fair distance. 

He finally says, “I want to kneel, Harry. Want to kneel for both of you. That’s alright, innit?” 

“Of course it is.” He spins back to his self-appointed task immediately. “I was only making sure. I should have—There we go,” He finally plucks one out of the drawer and shuts it closed. It has a dark blue case over it that looks ridiculously soft. “Is this acceptable, darling?” 

Eggsy nods. “Looks perfect. I like blue.” 

Harry preens. Eggsy preens at having made Harry preen. It’s a sickeningly sweet feedback loop. 

Merlin leans against the doorframe and shakes his head lightly. Really, Eggsy’s a phenomenal sub. Caring, intelligent, joyful over their presence, thrilled to be pleasing them—It might be the intensity of the night talking, but he’s honestly a little infatuated. Finding a competent sub is rare, finding an obedient, competent sub is rarer, and finding one who is openly adoring and affectionate—If this is a one-time experience, with Eggsy wanting nothing more from them after, every millisecond of their time will be treasured. 

It’s been years since Merlin has had a sub want him for him. He has a handful of subs who call him when they’re in a rough spot, but they’re not /his/. If he can have Eggsy as /his/ for a night—It’s a gift. As sappy as that may sound, it’s a gift that Eggsy’s given him. Trusting him, wanting him while he’s Under, focusing on his order while at that ridiculous club, getting the flash drive for him—It pleases him. A lot. 

It’ll be both thrilling and humbling to help Eggsy through his Drop. 

(Even if he has to play nice with Harry. Even if they have to pretend they’re fine after years of a tumultuous relationship and Harry’s betrayal and Merlin’s expectations.) 

Eventually, Harry has Eggsy situated comfortably. Eggsy notices Merlin first, brightening when their eyes meet. His smile widens. Merlin smiles in kind, and Eggsy seems happily dumbstruck by the response. 

Merlin clears his throat to catch Harry’s attention. Harry, who spins around and flushes a light red. Even after everything they’ve been through together, Harry still hates when Merlin sees him as anything less than perfect and gets unnecessarily embarrassed. 

“I’m going to find him clothes so he can start warming up. Your home clothes are still in the third drawer?” 

“Yes.” He straightens his cuffs and adds, awkwardly, “The spare clothes you keep here are there as well. He may prefer to, er. From both of us. He’s rather tactile.” 

Merlin nods, eyes soft. “I think he would too. Give me a minute.” 

Harry’s room is both the least and most personal of them all. It came straight out of a catalogue with the only change being who shares the bed with him at any given date, but it’s always covered with junk. He has a study, yet uses his bedroom for most of his work, which translates to him having piles of paperwork stacked everywhere. The laundry piles up on the ground because he won’t put any of it in the basket like he should, he leaves plates and mugs on every surface instead of eating in the dining room he owns, and he barely hides his weapons for emergencies. He can see the grip of a gun peeking out from underneath his pillow just from standing in the doorway. 

He skips over the closet and haphazardly thrown suits, finding the cherry wood drawers hidden underneath a sheet he must have stripped off the bed and thrown to the side. A teacup spilling must have caused the giant brown stain on it. Merlin lets it fall to the ground and starts digging through the options. 

Sure enough, the jeans and cardigans Merlin has left there over the years are folded neatly and placed there alongside Harry’s own clothing. Ignoring the pang of loss, he grabs the soft pair of trousers Harry wears when he’s sick and his own softest cardigan. He imagines comfortable clothing will be preferable to jeans and tee shirts. 

He heads back to the living room, pausing when he hears Harry speaking quietly and Eggsy humming in response. 

“—He’s very impressed. We both are, darling. You’ve done very well tonight. Merlin and I will treat you well, I promise. You can trust us. We won’t—You don’t need to worry. You can let go whenever you’re ready.” 

“Whatever you say, Harry. I trust you. I trust Merlin.” There’s a pause before he adds, hesitantly, “So. Both of you. You’re happy with me? I was good?” 

There’s hesitancy in it that wasn’t there before. A vulnerability that feels raw compared to everything Eggsy’s said all night. Merlin feels a lump form in his throat. 

Harry sounds a little choked when he responds, “Of course, darling. You were very good. We’re proud of you.” 

The contented sigh that inspires is both satisfying and slightly worrying. The worry will have to wait, though. 

Merlin steps into the room. Harry’s already seated on the couch, leaning forward and holding Eggsy’s head in his hand. He takes the seat on the opposite side of Harry, reaching down to briefly pat Eggsy’s head. “Eggsy, please change into these behind the couch. Clean clothes will be much nicer than those rags you have on, won’t they?” 

Eggsy nods eagerly and takes the clothes. He scampers behind the couch, out of sight from both of the doms. The sound of rustling clothes and a hiss of pain cause them both to wince. They share a look, half-pained and half-anticipatory. 

Merlin would wager they have maybe ten minutes more of peace before Eggsy’s Drop hits. Harry has a plethora of supplies on the table that mock their concern—Being over prepared is better than being underprepared, Harry would argue, and Merlin isn’t inclined to disagree. Neither of them is ready—Merlin can tell by the sheen of sweat coating Harry’s forehead that he isn’t alone in his anxiety—but Eggsy’s good mood can only last so long. 

“Any idea of how to handle this?” Harry asks quietly. His mouth is an uncertain line. “Any predictions?” 

“I’m not omniscient. Just be careful. We’ll have to give him a united front so don’t be hasty.” Merlin shrugs helplessly. “Other than that? I have nothing.” 

Harry snidely responds, “How helpful.” 

Merlin would retort, but Eggsy walks back out and sinks back to the pillow in front of them, smiling dopily. 

And seeing him in Harry’s soft, silky black pants and Merlin’s cream-colored sweater, both of which are too large for him, has Merlin’s heart fluttering. 

“Beautiful,” Harry breathes, and Merlin concurs. Eggsy grins bashfully. 

Merlin coos, “What a sweet, pretty boy we have here.” He ruffles Eggsy’s hair, his fingertips lingering. “You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” 

Eggsy ducks his head, pleased and turning steadily redder. 

(He doesn’t realize how in-sync he and Harry are. How their breathing is matching, their eyes trail over Eggsy complementarily, their hands brush against each other on the couch when they lean forward to praise their boy.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took FOREVER and I'm sorry for that. But it was fun to write and I think people will like it! Merlin's POV was so much fun. Remember, though, that it's his POV so some of the things he's thinking might be flawed/misunderstanding/etc. 
> 
> I'm loving the dynamic I have in mind for him and Harry's past, I have to admit, so I might've been a little heavy-handed with the hints here for it haha. Hope you guys like it anyway! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who sent kudos and comments!! They make my day so much brighter and I really appreciate you taking the time. Thank you so much! : )


	5. In which Harry gets his wires crossed and really doesn't know what he's doing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Wow this took a lot longer than I intended for it to. Thank you all for being patient with me! 
> 
> I tried to research subdrops as much as I could, but a lot of things were personal accounts that basically said, "Everyone experiences it differently" so I tried to dramatize it a bit since this is a D/S-verse and I want it to play a large role and have societal significance, ya know? since it's more televised and well-known in this verse I imagine there's a certain placebo effect from TV and stuff that makes people expect more intense reactions from having a subdrop since they build it up. if that makes sense? anyways i tried to dramatize it and make it more intense than I got the impression of it being in real life, so I hope that comes across and everyone knows I'm no expert. 
> 
> Harry Hart's POV absolutely killed me, but I think I got what I wanted out of this. I've never tried writing from limited perspectives before, so it's neat to sort of implant misunderstandings and faulty analysis based on who's thinking/talking/perceiving everything. It was hard with him though, I gotta admit, so I hope everyone enjoys! 
> 
> Big shoutout to everyone who commented, left kudos, subscribed, and said nice things to me on tumblr! You all rock and I hope the wait was worth it haha~

It happens slowly. Had they not been expecting it, Harry suspects they would have had a hard time pinpointing the exact moment Eggsy Dropped. 

For five minutes and forty-two seconds, Eggsy remained motionless as he knelt. With a blissfully neutral expression, he stayed perfectly still with his eyes staring at nothing. Merlin had to grip his hand thrice to keep Harry from reaching out and disturbing him. 

The curve of Merlin’s eyebrows said, “Don’t, Harry. Leave him be.” 

Harry understands. For them to help Eggsy get past this, he needs to Drop. Marking time by petting him and encouraging him to stay Under without crashing—It would hurt Eggsy in the long run. 

The longer he’s Under, the longer it’ll take him to Drop, the longer it’ll take him to Surface—Which is the overall goal, of course: Get Eggsy back to his standard state of mind. Get him back to headquarters to debrief and deal with the shitstorm they left behind so he can get back to work immediately. Let him return to pretending once more. 

Harry assumes Eggsy will refuse to use his orientation in missions, no matter how much Arthur pressures him, seeing as he would never have let it slip if he hadn’t been under the influence. Which means he’ll return to pretending to be a single, mild dom in no hurry to settle down. 

Which is fine. Eggsy can make his own decisions. Harry has never been a dom who wanted a sub to submit in personal matters—He can live a lie if that’s what he wants, and Harry and Merlin will help. 

Eggsy’s breath hitches and Harry’s eyes dart to his figure. He sees his throat move with a heavy swallow and his lips twitch slightly open, as if in preparation to say something. He and Merlin share a look, recognizing it for what it is. 

“Tell me how you’re feeling, Eggsy.” Merlin’s voice is loud when it breaks the silence they’ve wrapped themselves in. Harry resentfully lets Merlin take the lead to begin. 

Merlin had once been well-known by various communities for handling Drops. He used to be on some very powerful men’s speed dial as their surrogate—He would step in whenever their sub was particularly fragile or Dropped completely, handle the “messy bits” powerful men don’t care to deal with in their relationships. Powerful men who only want subs as yet another toy to add to their collection. 

Unsurprisingly, despite the reputation he had managed to amass, after nearly fifteen years he refused to further Kingsman’s influence in this way. The information he could gather while in these men’s homes, dealing with and speaking to their emotionally drained subs, being trusted by both parts of the dynamic—It was invaluable, but Merlin has always been too softhearted. Having to help these subs, build them back up after being shoved to the floor and spat on, and later send them back to the bastard who left them in that position—He fell in love with more than a few of them. 

(Harry suspects he loved all of them, even the bratty ones. Merlin never could differentiate between casual and meaningful relationships.) 

Once, he offered to help one escape. He offered up his own home to them and was rejected—If Harry remembers correctly, the sub, a socialite named Lucas, essentially told Merlin being with an abusive millionaire was better than lowering himself to living with a surrogate. After that, Merlin never answered calls from the doms and started therapy. He still goes, as far as Harry’s aware. 

(He gave up the privilege of knowing for certain long ago.) 

Even if Harry wasn’t fond of Eggsy, he wouldn’t allow Merlin to go through this alone. Not after the lingering issues Merlin still has thanks to Chester’s insistence and pressure. He never goes on any undercover missions anymore, remaining as the “ground control”, so to speak. In a pinch, he can be backup and extraction, but unless they need him as a sniper or getaway driver, he stays behind as their handler. 

Although, Harry notes, since V-Day, Merlin has been much more willing to be helping in the field. He knows that if Arthur had authorized an extraction for Eggsy that night, Merlin would have been the one running the operation. 

Eggsy finally answers Merlin in a small voice: “I feel bad.” 

And Harry mentally flushes his previous line of thought and remembers why they’re here. 

They will help Eggsy Surface and let him go back to the façade he presented before—The façade of being a rough but polite dom. The façade of being the perfect Kingsman other than his social standing, according to Chester and others. The façade that no one saw through. The façade that Harry, who essentially gave Eggsy his job on a silver platter, who moved mountains to convince the new Arthur to take him on, who spent hours with the boy and listened to him about his worries and fears, who comforted him—

Well, the façade that Harry stupidly fell for. It’s a cold comfort that despite his high expectations, Eggsy is a better spy than Harry thought.

(A better liar, he corrects himself.) 

He wants to trap Eggsy and scrub away the layers until he sees what the boy really is. There have been glimpses of Eggsy’s core throughout the evening—Glimpses of vulnerability and desperation that make his toes curl. But now, thinking about it all, Harry feels—

Quite a bit, actually. 

Frustration at Eggsy for hiding from him. Disappointment that Eggsy wouldn’t trust him after everything Harry’s done for him. Repulsion at Eggsy for putting him in this position. Lingering bitterness toward Merlin for ruining their arrangement. Fury that Eggsy would lie for months to him when Harry risked everything for him, when Harry has invested countless hours and an immeasurable amount of energy into helping Eggsy become the gentleman he is today. 

(Frustration at himself for not looking further. Disappointment in himself for not providing appropriate care for his protégé. Repulsion at himself for the thick desire coating his throat and making his breathing thick. Heavy bitterness himself for ruining his and Merlin’s arrangement over and over again and finally tipping Merlin’s hand. Fury that even as he enters his fifties, he still feels like a tiny, chastised schoolboy whenever he fucks up.

An underlying affection that, despite the deceit, Eggsy must truly care for him. He did, after all, essentially beg for Harry’s touch. Multiple times, in fact.) 

“Explain what you mean by ‘bad’, sweetheart,” Merlin orders. He shakes his head discretely when Harry reaches out to their sub. “Physical or emotional?” 

Eggsy whimpers. “I dunno. Just bad.” 

“Explain.” 

“I don’t—I can’t—What do you want? Please tell me, I can’t—I feel bad.” 

“Tell me if you feel bad as in ill or bad as in naughty,” Merlin, with infinite patience, narrows down his order. 

“The second one—“ His voice breaks and they both watch him swipe at his eyes with his sleeve. 

It’s been a long, long time since Harry has had a sub Drop around him. He has always been a doting dom—In his younger years, even when he could go overboard, he made sure his sub felt cared for. It normally kept them Under for longer than average times, but it also kept them undeniably safe. With his help, they would Surface without any consequences. His experience with Drops are limited to his handful of serious relationships, and thankfully, it seems like Eggsy will have similar reactions to his past subs. Harry will be able to handle this. 

It still makes his throat tighten. 

“Oh Eggsy—“ He starts, but Merlin glares and he stops. 

He wouldn’t be able to say it, even if Merlin hadn’t cut him off.

(Despite logically knowing that Eggsy’s Drop is due to a drug and nothing he did caused it, he feels wretched. Horribly, unbearably guilty, as if Eggsy’s pain came directly from his hand.) 

He shakes his head abruptly and centers himself. Guilt can wait until this has passed. 

Merlin, inscrutable, lets the silence hang for a long moment. “You did very well today. You don’t need to feel bad. Harry and I are proud of you and your performance.” 

Eggsy doesn’t say anything, his shoulders hunching. 

“You can turn and look at us if you want. Would you like Harry to hold you?” 

“I dunno.” 

“Are you saying that because you really don’t know or because you don’t know what we want your answer to be?” 

Eggsy twists to face them and snaps, “Stop, I’m a good sub—“ 

“We know you are,” Merlin’s voice suddenly turns soothing. “You’re a very good sub.” 

“Stop, I can’t—Just stop it stop it now—“ Eggsy scrambles away from them, crab legging backwards and breathing heavily. “I can’t—This ain’t okay I ain’t okay so just stop for a minute!” 

“Eggsy, what can we do to make you feel better? What do you want, darling?” The words leave Harry’s mouth, and Merlin visibly cringes. 

He finally hits the wall on the opposite side of the room and his hands scrabble against it uselessly, as if feeling for a door. “Shut up shut up—That ain’t how this works, you say ‘Do this’ and I do it and I’m a good fuckin’ sub I’m good at what I do why do I feel wrong?” 

Merlin cuts in. “You’re not wrong. You were drugged and you’re falling into a Drop—“ 

“Well make it fuckin’ stop then!” Eggsy shrieks. “You’re the doms so make it fuckin’ stop I didn’t do nothin’ so why does it feel like I’m fuckin’ dirt make it stop—“ He pales and turns slightly green. “’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Harry stands up and dodges Merlin’s grab to drag him back down to his seat. He approaches Eggsy with a gentle hand outstretched, his face calm as he squats down next to him. “You’re okay, Eggsy, you’re just fine. I promise, darling, we have you and we’ll get you through this—“ 

“Fuck off!” 

Harry rears back, clutching his nose. Astonished, he stares at Eggsy’s bared teeth and trembling fist. 

“Sure as fuck didn’t get me through anything else you fuckin’ bastard so why the fuck should I believe you now? Fuckin’ shit you didn’t even get me through dealin’ with Dean—I had to deal with him! I had to deal with that entire mess on my own! Don’t act like you have my back ‘cause you don’t when I actually need help you’re too busy playin’ dead and showin’ off and bein’ an arsehole and lordin’ the fact that you helped me out over me fuckin’ head—Makin’ it out like I owe you shit when I didn’t ask for any of this!” 

Merlin helpfully grabs Harry by the collar and drags him out of Eggsy’s range. Almost immediately, Eggsy’s eyes, formerly narrowed and fierce, go wide, pained, and horrified, and he sniffles. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean none of that—‘m sorry, don’t be mad I’m so sorry Harry—Please please please I didn’t mean none of it you’re so good to me—“ 

He shoves Harry behind him and blocks his face from view. “Hush, Eggsy. You’re perfectly fine. Take some time to compose yourself. I need to speak with Harry.” 

The sniffles continue and sound wetter the longer they go on. Merlin turns his back to Eggsy and pulls Harry to his feet. 

“If you’re not going to listen to me, get out,” Merlin murmurs as Harry dabs at the blood trickling out of his nose. “Drops are my expertise. I know what I’m doing. Follow my lead or get out so you don’t distress our lad more.” 

He instinctively bristles at Merlin’s casual order. “I’m not the sub here, Aaron—“ 

“No, but you’re certainly not acting like a dom either,” He says coolly. “If you were, you’d stop trying to appeal to him as a dom-parent to a dom-child. He’s a Dropped sub; he needs orders and reassurance, not you treating him like he’s an injured child. He needs doms, not a father.” 

Harry flinches. 

“You were fine before he Dropped,” Merlin notes clinically. He barely reacts to Eggsy’s light whimpers that have Harry’s nerves grating. “What changed?” 

“It was…easy, I suppose, to ignore that he is truly a sub when he was still Under. He still acted like our normal Eggsy. Other than the kneeling and somewhat clingy nature, he didn’t change much. I treated him like I would have treated Eggsy as a drugged dom. I’m still doing that. 

“I know it’s a Drop, but I can’t quite—Merlin, he faked it for months. Through training, through V-Day, through every mission after that, and none of us suspected a thing. He was a talented actor and because of that I don’t completely see him as a sub yet. It is disturbing to order him around when he’s normally so strong-willed.” 

“But you want to ease his distress despite that, thus the borderline infantilizing,” Merlin guesses. He presses his lips together when Harry doesn’t answer. “You need to follow my lead. I know what I’m doing.” 

“You always did need to be in control of everything, didn’t you?” Harry mutters cynically. 

“No, you were just oversensitive to me ever taking the lead. You were the one who called the shots on days that end with ‘y’,” Merlin retorts. “I’m serious. Follow my cues or this is going to be a long night.” 

Harry tersely nods. He pinches his nose in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Eggsy, clearly, is not reacting like Harry predicted. Merlin must have some idea of how to handle a sub that can go violent, whereas Harry is clueless. He has always picked—well, submissive subs. Obedient, gentle, docile subs. Martha could never hurt a fly, let alone punch her dom. It would be easy to react like Eggsy was a dom and Harry could fight back, but logically, he knows that Eggsy reacted defensively. 

(He forcibly ignores thinking about why he would have cultivated that vicious preventative reflex.) 

Eggsy wails suddenly, startling them both. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watches him scrub at his eyes with his sleeves once more and sob at their backs. “Please look at me, I’m sorry—“ 

Merlin’s eyes widen and he spins around. “Of course, sweetheart. We forgive you, of course we do. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I’m so sorry.” 

He looks like a wreck, the poor thing. His eyes are red and Harry can see his lower lip quivering. Everything about him screams that he’s painfully vulnerable, from his hands and feet being covered by their clothing to his ruffled hair. No one, Harry thinks, would believe that this is the man who helped save the world by murdering a genocidal maniac. 

Guilt pierces Harry’s core at seeing how their inattention harmed him. It’s easy to see Merlin feels the same way, as they both gravitate forward. 

Eggsy’s posture tightens at once and he bares his teeth again. “Back the fuck off you fuckin’—Don’t even think ‘bout touchin’ me, I’ll knock both yous on your posh arses—“ 

Immediately his words die down when Merlin backtracks and drags Harry with him. “We will never touch you if you don’t want us to.” 

Eggsy looks remorseful. “I’m sorry. I ain’t bein’ good no more.” 

“You’re fine. We still think you’re a wonderful sub. You’re in a Drop, we don’t expect you to be perfect. You’re a good boy, we know you are.” 

He sniffles and curls his knees up to his chest. 

Carefully, Merlin asks, “Do you want us to leave the room?” 

“No!” Eggsy shouts. His eyes display panic. “No no no, please don’t—“ 

“We won’t,” Merlin soothes. He motions for Harry to return to his seat on the couch, which Harry does reluctantly. Merlin starts backing up and takes his seat, leaning forward and bracing himself on his knees to be as close to Eggsy as possible. “We won’t leave unless you want us to. We are going to sit for now. If you want us to leave or come closer, tell us and we will absolutely move however you want. Otherwise, we will be right here.” 

He relaxes against the wall and hugs his knees, pressing his chin to the divot between the two. “Both of you is so good to me.” 

A rewarding sentiment, after the rollercoaster of emotions they’ve weathered so far, but Harry already feels completely drained. 

Over the next three hours, Merlin skillfully handles Eggsy’s mood swings. He encourages Eggsy to drink a full bottle of water and eat some candy. He brings Eggsy into a conversation about a movie he remembers Roxy and him seeing earlier in the week. He carefully tosses Eggsy a pillow to hold onto when he starts to fidget with his hands and seem upset, going so far as to apologize for not having anything softer to hold onto. 

When Eggsy looks at Harry expectantly, he reluctantly follows Merlin’s example. He gives Eggsy choices, having seen that’s how Merlin gets responses. Not necessarily orders, now that he has calmed down, but detailed options rather than leaving it open-ended for interpretation. At one point, Eggsy lets Harry walk over and drape a blanket over him, nudges Harry’s hand lightly before suddenly closing off and giving him the cold shoulder. 

It is obvious, though, that Eggsy is favoring Merlin’s approach. He snaps at Merlin less and is more agreeable to his requests, and when Harry mimics Merlin he receives less hostility. 

Eggsy, at the end of the three hours, hesitantly comes out of his corner and plops on the couch between them. Without a word, he situates himself so his head is on Merlin’s lap and his feet kept warm underneath Harry’s thighs. When Harry goes to pet his legs, Merlin catches his hand and shakes his head. 

Reluctantly, he folds his hands in his lap. 

Eggsy finally nods off. 

Harry murmurs, quietly, “I never knew.” 

Merlin raises a questioning eyebrow. 

“You thrive when you can care for someone. I never allowed you to care for me so I never knew.” 

“One of many, many reasons we never worked out.” 

(There’s a question on the tip of Harry’s tongue. He could ask now and expose his own desires. He could ask and start a conversation he and Merlin have avoided for years. He could ask and finally, finally see if their incompatibility is down to biology or their own stupidity. 

He saves it for later.)

He lets out a soft breath and asks, half-exasperated and half-fond, “Did you really love me?” 

Merlin’s hand digs into the couch’s arm as he looks away. “What do you think?” 

Harry dozes on and off for the rest of the night, but Merlin stays awake and keeps watch. He always was the last one to fall asleep, whether they were on a mission or they were sharing a bed. 

(What Harry misses that night is how Merlin’s eyes barely leave Eggsy all night. How Merlin doesn’t spare Harry another look for the rest of the night.

What Harry has always missed is how much he takes Merlin for granted.)


End file.
